


Snuggles

by Kimiinthetardis



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), All Souls Trilogy - Deborah Harkness
Genre: But a badass who needs love, Diana is a badass, Episode tag 1.06, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Teeny bit of angst, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 11:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17724578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimiinthetardis/pseuds/Kimiinthetardis
Summary: In Diana’s bedroom in Sept Tour after The Worst Day. Diana’s been checked over, patched up, and eaten as much food as her twisted stomach could bear. But her mind won’t quite settle. Matthew wants to help. Fluffy times commence.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: obviously I don't own these characters, even though I love them very much <3 
> 
> First fanfic ever y’all, so be nice pls. These characters have taken over my brain so I had to write this. Shout out to amazing beta Tegan, you da bomb, girl xx

Matthew is sitting in bed next to Diana. She made him promise to stay. She’d pleaded, and he could never resist those blue eyes, even if they didn’t sparkle quite as they did the day before. He was reading a paper he was reviewing for a journal back in England, something about protein markers. He realized, almost all of a sudden, that his eyes had drifted over to a loose plait of blonde hair (Ysabeau insisted on braiding it herself) and the slow rise and fall of the heavy covers. They’d been like this for a few hours, Matthew trying to read a paper and Diana distracting him with her breathing and beating heart.

He leans down to pull the covers over her shoulders when the room starts to shift somehow.

It starts as a flutter; the pages of the paper move so slightly he would’ve thought it was his breath. Then he hears the tapestries ripple on the other side of the room; but all the doors and windows were shut on such a cold night. Something was wrong.

Matthew looks down at Diana again and hears her heart beating. It was not the slow and steady beat of someone in peaceful sleep. _Maybe it’s just a dream_ , he tells himself. She’s had an intense couple of weeks; her brain has had a lot to process. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees her fingers start to twitch. 

He can smell the adrenaline as it courses through her body. It reaches her heart, speeding it even further. Her inflamed, strained muscles start to contract. Her fingers move more and more. _Is she casting a spell in her dreams? Is she reaching for something?_  

Matthew places a hand gently on her face to wake her - she doesn’t need a shock in a state like this, it would make everything worse.

“Diana,” he whispers, stroking her cheek. “Diana, wake up, love.” 

His actions only seem to distress her more. Tears begin to leak from her lids and slowly trickle down her face. Soft whimpers escape her lips and she shakes her head.

Matthew reaches down and gently shakes her shoulders, mindful of the injuries scattering her body. “Diana. Diana, please. Just wake up, it’s only a dream, I’m right here. Wake up, please, darling, wake up for me.”

His paper, now fallen off the bed, is caught in the wind and whipped around the room. She’s getting worse. “Matthew! Matthew, !”  
  
“Diana!” he yells as her eyes fly open.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana's woken up from her nightmare- how will Matthew look after her?

Diana bolts upright, ignoring the pain screaming through her body. Her eyes quickly scan the room, determining which reality is real and which one isn’t. The witchwind dies down the instant her eyes lock with Matthew’s.

Her arms fling themselves around his neck. He’s here. He’s really here. She needs to know he’s safe, with her, and nowhere else. He brings his arms around her too, one on her shoulder and one at the base of her spine, painfully careful to avoid the branding still fresh on her back.

Diana doesn’t even realise she’s crying until she hears Matthew whispering to her.

“It’s alright, Diana. You’re awake now, you’re safe. You’re here with me.”

But she can’t stop, she’s sobbing, there’s not enough oxygen. Epinephrine still pumping through her veins.

 

Matthew shifts his body so he can stroke her hair. Diana takes advantage of the move and wraps her legs around his torso, clinging to him like a koala. She needs to be in contact with as much of him as possible. _It can’t have just been a dream_ , she thinks, _it was just too real_. 

Diana slowly calms, breathing the smell of Matthew’s clothes to comfort her, to remind herself that she’s really in bed with him, in the middle of Sept Tour. Matthew sits in silence, letting her adjust, until her breathing settled and the tears have stopped.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he murmurs in her ear, not wanting to break the quiet and risk spooking her. Diana was the strongest person he knew, but even strong people have weak moments. 

Diana takes a deep breath and curls closer into his neck, speaking so softly only his heightened sense picks it up. “It was you, she had you, and… and.” She hiccups. “And I couldn’t do anything. My magic was useless. Satu was hurting you, and I was being pulled away. I couldn’t… I couldn’t protect you.” She barely manages to push out the sentence before the tears start again.

 “It was just a dream, Diana.” He says, stroking her hair.

She unfurls herself, but keeps her arms around his neck. “But what if it wasn’t, Matthew? You said I had every marker ever. Maybe it wasn’t just a dream, maybe it _was_ the future. Maybe I’m not strong enough, I couldn’t protect myself and - and Icouldntprotectyou.” Her words race together with fear.

“I’m not an expert on Seers, Diana. It has been many centuries since I’ve met one. But if this really isn’t just a dream, if it’s something else,” he puts his finger underneath her chin to help her meet his eye, “then we’ll work it out together. We’ll talk to Em and Sarah. We’ll work out what to do, but…” He sighs. “We won’t do that tonight, my love. Now is not the time for this. Now is the time for rest.”

 

He notices she’s started shivering, her core temperature dropping now that the adrenaline was finally leaving her body in peace. She was covered in goosebumps, and he wasn’t exactly providing any warmth for her.

 “I’ll stoke the fire, get you another blanket, and we’ll get you rested and ready for tomorrow,” he says, kissing her forehead. He tastes the exhaustion in her sweat.

 

“Matthew, I don’t want to go to sleep yet, I just… I can’t. It’s too much. I don’t want to dream again, I can’t face it.”

“Please, Diana, you’ve been through so much. Your body needs to rest.”

 “So does my mind! My mind isn’t strong enough to go through that again, or any other horrors it can conjure up in the next few hours.” A tear escapes her eye and lands on Mathew’s button down.

Matthew takes a mental inventory of everything in his medical supply bag; his old medical training dies hard. There were no sedatives, nothing to protect her mind from the horrors of the day. He certainly wasn’t going to risk leaving to get her something.

 

In the moment that he’s lost in thought, Diana’s lips find his. She needs him, right here and right now. She doesn’t want him distracted over something else. Matthew quickly loses his train of thought as the taste of chamomile floats across his lips, and quickly he’s pouring all his love into that kiss. He needs her too; while nowhere near as severe, she’s not the only one who has been traumatized by the events of the day. _But not like this_ , he thinks. So he kisses her carefully, and slowly, not rushing anything.

 

When Diana breaks for air (and is momentarily annoyed that one of them actually needs to breathe on a regular basis), she quietly says, not wanting to break the spell tying them to this moment, “I know we’re not _there_ yet, we’ve only, “she smirks, “’French Bundled’, but I need something, I need something to make my soul believe you’re alive.”

Matthew sits in thought for a second, then says, “I have an idea.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does one take care of one's partner after a panic attack? A bath, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, I am such a sucker for all hurt/comfort fics, and I'm especially a sucker for all bath-related fics, so I really couldn't help where this fic was going to end up. 
> 
> Did I think my History of Science courses in my undergrad degree would be interesting? Yes. Did I think they'd help me write a fanfiction 4 years later? Not so much. The world works in mysterious ways, my friends.

“I have an idea.”

Diana’s eyes sparkle, some of her energy slowly coming back. “Yeah?”

Matthew takes her hand and guides her across the room to the door on the other side, opening it with his free hand. In front of them is the most luxurious bath Diana has ever seen. She’s bathed in it before, of course, but having her hair washed by Marthe was a little different to this.

 

“How about,” he whispers in her ear, placing a hand on her lower back and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “I take care of you? I need to know you’re alright too. And it practically counts as naked bundling…” He smirks, teasing her gently and nuzzling against her cheek. He wants to let her know that he’s okay with this pace they’re setting, and that they’ll be okay together.

Diana sits on the side of the tub while Matthew draws the bath. He runs it not too hot, lest it irritates her cuts and grazes, but warm enough to soothe the muscles that had worked so hard the day before. He closes the taps before the level rises too much; the scars would not take kindly to the water quite yet.

 

He kneels in front of Diana, and slowly kisses the top of her hand. He looks into her eyes, asking for the silent consent to continue. She smiles at him, relaxing into his touch. He moves to take off the button up sleep-shirt she’s wearing, the only thing that she could easily wear right now. She stands up to do the same to his shirt, smiling at the memories of what happened last time they started like this.

But that was last night, and this is tonight. And that’s okay. It’s not steamy, and it’s not leading anywhere, but that doesn’t make it any less intimate or any less important.

 

Matthew helps her in first, and then sits behind her. She leans back against his cool chest and hisses a sigh of relief. The cool sensation of his chest against her soothes the scars- so different to the warm embrace of the water and her muscles, but both satisfying in their own way.

“Thank you,” she whispers, feeling safe in their private little world.

 

In reply he wraps his arms around her waist and holds her tight, kissing the crown of her head, feeling protective. He can feel her scar against his chest and thinks, just for a nanosecond, of what could’ve happened if he didn’t find her when he did. He squeezes a little tighter. _How could he do this to her?_

“Hey,” she says, tracing her good hand up his arm and finding his cheek behind her, “don’t. Don’t you dare apologize.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“Call it a sixth sense,” she says, nudging him with her shoulder. “That and my ribs can feel your protectiveness.” She glances down at where he’s holding her.

He quickly loosens his grip. “Am I allowed to apologise for that?” He couldn’t bear to think he’d hurt her. He could swear she said her ribs were fine when he examined her earlier. What else had slipped through his cracks?

“Hmm,” she murmured, “you can kiss and make it better.”

 He leans down and kisses her shoulder, resisting the temptation to edge closer to her neck.  

 

Diana sighs into his affection. “It wasn’t your fault, Matthew. It really wasn’t. Satu snatched me from nowhere. Even if you had been with me, I don’t think you could have done anything.” She runs her hands up and down his toned arms. “If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine. I should’ve just stayed in bed with you!” Her joking tone doesn’t quite land, and they both know it.

“But you found me, and you helped me save myself,” She reaches behind again, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, okay?”

There was no point arguing with her, Matthew knew that. “Okay,” he conceded. But he knew he was going to continue to blame himself, at least for a little while.

Content that the discussion was over, Diana dropped her sore hands back into the warm water, hoping it would ease the aches.

 

Diana’s scent is everywhere, swirling around him. And, while her witchblood is still singing to him from her veins, there’s no rush here, there’s no swirling of emotions making everything difficult to control. Thankfully, the man, rather than the creature, is in control. He’s controlled himself for most of his 1500 years. He can control himself now, when Diana needs him most. 

So Matthew does what he came in here to do: he takes care of her.

 

He washes her hair, running his fingers across her scalp, carefully untangling the knots and snares.  Her heartbeat slows and becomes more even with every circle of his fingers massaging her head and neck; there were plenty of knots there too. But this wasn’t just about tending to physical wounds - he needs to keep her mind occupied too. So Matthew tells her stories about Darwin, how “he could be such a crochety old fellow, but definitely had a soft spot for birds”, and Newton, “who could be quite the flirt when he wanted something” (which made her giggle), of Faraday, who Diana definitely would’ve liked, and of Ada Lovelace “who certainly knew how to gamble”. 

 

When he finished with her hair, he moved down to her hands - those amazingly powerful hands full of magic and wonder. Those hands that were sore and swollen. None of the fingers looked broken from here, so he started massaging her little fingers, and moved inward, hoping the massage would help prevent some of the soreness that was inevitable tomorrow morning. This time, Matthew moved onto tales of authors he knew and the adventures they had told him, hoping to fill her head with pleasant dreams before her sleep. He tells her of Shakespeare, another perpetual flirt, of Lewis Carroll, who seemed to believe in magic, and Austen, who threatened to write him into one of her books if he wasn’t careful (she giggles at that one too).

 

Small moans of relief escape her lips, and by the time he has finished every muscle in her body is relaxed and her heart is beating slowly. He can smell the melatonin creeping into her veins, and decides this would be the best time to get her to sleep. Besides, even he could tell the water was cooling, and Diana didn’t need to stay in a cold bath.  

So he helps her out of the tub, and they dry down, ready to snuggle into bed. Matthew even manages to convince Diana to let him wrap her ribs, as it does seem like at least one might be cracked. She resists at first, but she really couldn’t say no when he looked at her like that, eyes full of pleading and love.

He helps her gently into bed, careful not to bend too much and hurt her ribs. Her eyes are fluttering closed by the time he’s stoked the fire and returned with a blanket from the other side of the room. He creeps into bed, and she drifts into consciousness as he wraps his arms around her to make them both feel safe.

 

Diana knows she’s falling asleep, but she feels safe in his arms, knowing he’ll keep the nightmares at bay, at least for tonight.

“Don’t leave me,” she breathes, barely audible above the rustling of the sheets.

“I’m never leaving your side, ma lion. Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone, I love you all! Feel free to follow me on by adow blog "adowobsessed" <3


End file.
